Wendip Week Compilation
by ddp456
Summary: A series of various Wendy/Dipper themed one shots, created in honor of the annual Wendip Week celebration. Cover art created by Kenzoe64
1. What You Wish For

"TICK-TICK-TICK…"

Wendy Corduroy watched the ancient cuckoo clock mounted on the wall across from her chip away second by painstaking second. Her entire night seemed to be passing at a turtle's pace.

She yawned into an open palm before setting it back under her chin to hold her glum face up towards attention. Wendy's elbow ached from placing it against the chipped countertop, but the feeling quickly passed. Her other hand tapped its fingertips in rhythm to the clock's ticking. The clerk's dulled emerald eyes scanned the entirety of the Mystery Shack's Gift Shop, finding it to be completely empty, save for her friend, the handyman Soos Ramirez, gently humming to himself as he attended to the various odd jobs awaiting him.

Wendy returned her sights to the cuckoo clock, which at long last, passed on another minute.

"Ugh!" She cried out, sitting up from her slouched position on her stool. "I can't take it! This is super-boring! I don't mind it being quiet, but this is even too much for me!"

Wendy sat back down, and threw out an arm through the emptiness before her. "There hasn't been a single rube in here all day! Where is everyone?!"

"Didn't you know?" Soos finally spoke up and looked over his shoulder. "Tonight's that big party at the Northwest Mansion! There's a line around the block of people trying to get inside!"

"Pfft!" Wendy dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Bunch of pathetic wannabes! Who'd want to go to that dump in the first place?"

"But, Wendy-dude," Soos insisted. "I've heard crazy tales about the amazing things they have there. In fact, I heard rumors that the Northwests have fondue fountains consisting of every possible favor known to the human palette!"

"BAH!"

Soos sighed and looked out the window towards the starry Oregon sky. "If only I didn't have work tonight, I'd love to be able to check it out for myself. I bet it'd be so wonderful…"

"Oh, please, Soos! Like you – "

He turned around, his puppy-dog stare instantly made Wendy bite her tongue.

"I mean," she forced a smile. "Like you – and me; we're too cool for those jerks. Trust me on this buddy: you don't need to impress a bunch of lame-os who try way too hard at life. If anything, if we were to go, they'd only be mooching of our coolness."

"You're right, Wendy." A newly-inspired Soos stood confident. "Who needs those losers? We have all the fun and excitement we need right here!"

She gave him a thumbs-up of approval. "Tell it like it is, Soos!"

"Well…" "Grunkle" Stan Pines came crashing through the swinging door leading into the living room. "All of the fun and excitement is obviously somewhere else today." Soos frowned at his statement as Wendy rolled her eyes in defeat. Stan walked to the Gift Shop's entrance and turned the OPEN sign on the door to CLOSED. "You two finish your closing duties, and you can head on home."

"Finally!" Wendy hopped off her stool. "Saved by the slaughter rule!"

"Yeah, yeah." Stan shrugged off her remark. "Just make sure you leave the door open for the kids. They're probably going to be back late."

"The guys!" Wendy slapped the side of her head in amazement. "That's why it's been extra quiet 'round here!" How could she have missed it? Usually, Mabel would be prancing her pet pig around the house, or partaking in some kooky project, while Dipper would probably be at her side, cracking "Dad jokes" or trying to get her to laugh to pass the time, if not doing some sort of research upstairs.

"Where did those two dorks go anyways?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" Soos asked. "They're at the Northwests' party."

"They're WHAT?!" Wendy had to do a double-take. "Like, I know Mabel was super-pumped on trying to get into this shindig, but Dipper? I thought he couldn't stand Pacifica?"

"Don't worry." Soos added. "He still can't."

"Supposedly, Dipper cut a deal with Lil' Miss Priss." Stan went into detail. "Pacifica needed some sort of favor from him, and he agreed to it as long as Mabel and her little friends were allowed at the party."

"Oh, wow." Wendy leaned back on the counter with both hands. "Poor little guy. Dip's always going out of his way for Mabel, and now, he's stuck at that place with those awful people. He's probably going bonkers by now."

"Eh, he'll be fine." Stan insisted. "You know that Dipper's a professional - _professional wallflower!_" The old man laughed at his old joke, and looked to give either of his employees a high-five at his nephew's expense.

Soos and Wendy blankly stared at him in response.

"Eh, you people can't appreciate a good joke…"

A crazy thought popped into Wendy's mind. Maybe Dipper didn't have to be left at the Northwest Mansion all alone; maybe it was about time that _someone rescued him for once._

"Hey, Mr. Pines?"

"Hmm…" The elder stopped in his tracks.

"Listen," Wendy rubbed the back of her neck. "Would you mind if I duck outta work a few minutes early?"

A grimace spread over Stan's five o'clock shadow. "What for?"

"No particular reason." Wendy tried to keep a straight face. "I was thinking of _crashing_ – I meant, checking in on Dipper – and Mabel. Y' know, make sure everything's on the up-and-up with those Northwest weirdos."

To her surprise, a thin smile broke through her boss's toughened visage.

"Sure, kid. You go on ahead."

"Thanks!" Wendy took off towards the Gift Shop's exit. As soon as she placed her hand on the door handle…

"Wendy!"

She spun back around towards Stan.

"Before you go," he said. "You might wanna check out the chest in the back storeroom. There might be something in there that'll help ya out tonight." Strangely enough, Stan overlooked the lanky girl from head to toe. "Yeah, it shouldn't be too big on you…"

Wendy raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior until she realized what he was hinting at. "Oh! Gotcha, boss!"

She dashed through the door leading to the Pines' living room. Stan stood with his fists on his hips as he was overtaken by a fleeing sense of pride.

"And to think, Soos. People ask me why I keep that girl around…"

A confused Soos walked next to him, "You keep Wendy around in case your nephew needs a dancing partner at awkward parties?"

Stunned, Stan raised an index finger and began to open his mouth, only to close it a second later. He lowered his hand, and merely walked away, deciding it was better than lecturing his naïve handyman. Left unfazed, Soos shrugged and went on his way with the rest of his duties.

* * *

"Whoa! The old geezer wasn't kidding. This is gorgeous!"

Wendy was on her jeaned knees, digging through the various items in the worn-out chest when she came upon it. With both hands, she carefully pulled out a thin emerald green dress by the shoulder straps. Simple and modest, the gown gave off a glimmer within its materials.

Wendy rose to her feet and held the dress against her body. "Stan was right. It is definitely my size." It was quite the coincidence, especially how tall she was for her age. She raised it a few inches away from her freckled face and sniffed a couple of times. "And it doesn't reek like mildew! Talk about a win-win. I guess Stan _didn't_ steal it off a corpse! And hello, what's this?"

The absence of the dress revealed a new layer of secret goodies within the chest. At the very bottom, was a pair of black high-heels. With her free hand, Wendy plucked a shoe with two fingers and held it against the soiled bottom of her boot. "Score times two! Looks to be a match."

Her brow shifted as she noticed a small note attached to one of the heels. "But why is there a note that says "Happy Great-Uncle's Day" on it?"

* * *

*HUFF-PUFF!*

"Phew!" Wendy wiped the sweat from her forehead as she looked up to see the foreboding Northwest Manor in the distance. It had been a struggle for her to make it up the long and curving road leading to the secluded mansion on her bike.

"Mental note for later," She looked down towards the green fabric wrapped countless times around her waist to avoid getting it caught in the spokes of the bicycle. "Never go biking while wearing a dress ever again."

At the peak of the mountain, Wendy hid her red bike within the safety of a rather large patch of shrubbery. Once it was properly hidden from plain sight, she reached into the knapsack holding the rest of her clothing and retrieved the black heels. Wendy quickly brushed the thin layer of dust and grass from the soles of her feet before stepping into the pumps.

"O-kay…" She tried to adjust her footing to maintain balance. "It's either these or my boots, and there's no way they're getting past the front door here." Wendy tucked her bag back into the brushes and traveled up the road. Her jaw dropped as soon as she reached the summit.

"No…freaking…way!"

There were hundreds of people waiting in line for the party! They stood grumbling and huddled against posted barricades under the watchful eyes of several burly guards standing in front of a high-scaled wooden door. The initials "N" and "W" were mounted on the connecting cement fence that wrapped around the entire complex. Sharp steel points adorned the top of the fence, only breaking in point for an occasional statue of adult male deer with full antlers.

"Huh? I wonder what's that all about?" It was then that she spotted another hitch in her plan. Her massively large father, the infamous lumberjack, "Manly" Dan Corduroy, was standing in line along with his friend from the Skull Fracture Bar, Tyler Cutebiker.

"EEP!" Wendy dove into the bushes surrounding the cliff's edge for cover. There was no way her dad could see her there – if he didn't chew her out for leaving work early, he definitely wouldn't ever live down the fact that he caught her in such a get-up.

She peeked out a space between the shrubs to see the two bar buddies laughing about while awaiting their chance to probably see the glorious contents hidden away behind the solid gates. If anything, Wendy felt sorry for her parent. "Oh, Dad," she pitied. "Not you, too…"

The girl looked to the cloudy night sky. "So, the place is heavily-guarded and if my dad catches me out here, I'm toast. What else can go wrong?"

*KRAK!*

The sounds of thunder echoed throughout the mountainside. A teeming downpour blanketed the crowd as well as the dressed-up fifteen year old lying in wait in the dirt now turned mud.

_"Great. Just great…"_

Wendy looked back towards the gathering in front of the gates, finding that not one soul had backed away due to the changing weather. A sense of irony struck her: all these people would stand through sleet and snow for a peek at a luxurious lifestyle, and yet, somewhere in that mansion, a smaller, but much smarter boy would probably give anything to be able to leave such a horrid place.

With a determined look on her face, Wendy threw a fist into her open hand. _"Hang on, Dip. I'm on my way!"_

Wendy kicked off her high heels into her awaiting hands. It would be easier to scale the soggy terrain in bare feet. Plus, the last thing she needed was to get the heels stuck in mud. She ducked deeper into the bushes and followed them to the western side of the mountain top. The edges were bordered with a mini-forest of tall, sturdy pine trees.

With shoes tucked under an armpit, Wendy began to climb the tallest tree of them all, taking care not to catch her dress on any branches. Luckily, none of the guards figured it'd be worth watching the sides of the fence. At the top, the lumberjane noted that she and the edged points of the fence were now on eye level.

She had to make her move now; especially before the lightning came.

With a graceful bound, Wendy leapt into the end of the branch and used it as a springboard to launch herself into the air. She performed a double somersault over the spikes and launched hard on one knee on the other side of the stone fence.

Wendy rose up and double-checked the edges of the green dress. Little splashes of mud could be found, but thankfully, there were no rips or tears. She glanced ahead to see more guards moving in rotation before the manor's front steps.

"Drat! More of those losers!" Wendy crouched over to a nearly hedge and set her shoes on the ground. Hiding behind a corner, she glimpsed the men marching back and forth, following a well-lit path of planned shrubs across the courtyard. They appeared to change portions at the center of the court, where a giant mermaid statue shaped like Pacifica herself endlessly spewed crystal-clear water.

"Eww! That's so tacky!" The nimble lumberjack princess scanned her surroundings. "Now, the question is how do I get pass the flying monkeys over there?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Wendy spotted it. A window on the second floor was left ajar. It was just open enough for her to slip through – if she could reach it.

As Wendy pulled back, she noticed that her right hand had become tangled in something odd. With a harder tug, a long, yet thick vine came forth from the greenery. Testing its strength, Wendy wrapped it around her arm and pulled several times, seeing that it didn't budge or rip in the slightest. "That'll do nicely. And now for a distraction…"

Wendy picked up a loose pebble from the ground and hurled it at the Pacifica-mermaid statue with an overhand throw. The rock collided with the statue with a "PING!" sending all of the guards on high-alert!

"PING?"

"PING!"

"I heard a PING! Over here!"

Within seconds, every guard in the yard circled around the statue, trying like crazy to find the source of the attack. Wendy smiled, picked the heels up, and darted across the lawn towards the manor. Making sure she was hidden from view, the crafty high-schooler knotted the green rope together and threw an end towards the open windowsill.

It came back down without hitting its mark.

"Dammit!" Wendy tried once again, keeping an eye out for the guards. She knew that they wouldn't be distracted forever. On her second attempt, she felt the vine catch on to the ledge. Wendy gave the line a few extra pulls to ensure it was more than secured.

She wrapped the cord around her waist, tucked the high heels beneath an arm for safety, and started to climb the walls of Northwest Manor. If only the guards paid closer attention, they would have been a thinning silhouette creeping its way past gravity's hold towards her destination.

"This is crazy," Wendy thought as she pulled herself upwards and closer towards the window. "But I can only imagine how shocked Dip's going to be when he sees me." She could already hear his nasally voice in her head. _"Oh my gosh, Wendy! What are you doing here? You look so great! Just having you here makes this so much better!"_

"Ugh!"

Wendy landed on the other side of the open window. She blindly searched the wall for a light switch until her fingers made contact.

"KLIK!"

She had stumbled upon one of many bathrooms within the manor. The door was shut tightly, meaning that no one had witnessed her daring entrance.

"And thankfully, I can take a look at the damage here." Wendy stepped up to the mirror to see that only a small bit of her eye shadow had ran thanks in part to the rain. Her hair was a bit frizzled, but more than easily fixable with a splash of water. The dress was soaked, but with time, would look as good as new.

Her feet, however, were caked with mud. Thinking fast, Wendy took several sheets of thick-quality toilet paper, and started to clean herself up, making sure to wipe away all her muddy footprints. She couldn't risk leaving a trail or any sort of evidence she had been there.

"There! Good as new!"

Wendy looked back into the mirror, seeing herself as exactly the same way she had left the Mystery Shack. Now ready to track down her boy, she slipped on the high heels, shut off the light, and entered the long hallway leading to the Northwests' main hall.

_"Man, it must be a killer party. It almost sounds like people are screaming downstairs…"_

Following the luscious padded carpeting towards the hall, Wendy past numerous portraits of Northwest family members young and old hanging along on the furnished walls. For some reason, she had the haunting feeling that the eyes of the paintings were following her. She shook her head clear. A lightning bolt struck the earth in the distance outside of the nearest glass pane window.

Wendy walked around the corner towards the party lying just past the painstakingly-handcrafted staircase. Her breath was instantly taken away at the sight of absolute horror playing out on the ground floor.

_"What in the world?!"_

Dozens of ghastly, life-like wooden statues decorated the Northwests' parlor. No matter where she turned, Wendy couldn't find an effigy that didn't display an expression of utter terror. All of them appeared to be reaching out, as if to escape or plead against their fates.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The shaken teen followed the thunderous laughter to the ceiling, where a colossal blue ghost hovering over the ground. Without a second thought, Wendy ducked back behind the wall and bit down on her lip. _"Another ghost?! Man, why did it have to be a ghost?"_ It took a lot to shake any Corduroy of their nerve – their natural toughness was the stuff of legends. However, even her family had their limit, and ghostly encounters were ones of the fine lines. Wendy knew this from experience, having to face the married ghosts at the abandoned Dusk2Dawn convenience store earlier in the summer.

She peeped out from her hiding spot to see that this unusually muscular ghost sported what appeared to be a torn-up lumberjack uniform. One of the straps of his overalls had been torn off. His facial hair, a thick, brushy moustache with a long, untrimmed beard, seemed to be made of living azure fire.

The ghost's brow curved as it grinned gleefully, nearly touching its large, bulbous nose. An empty eye socket shined with the same blue fire as its face. Most horrifying of all, a hatchet that reminded Wendy of her own was embedded into the specter's forehead.

_"It sounds funny, but why does this guy remind me of my dad, but a zillion years older?"_

"No! No! No! Someone help! SOMEONE HEEEELLLLP…!"

Wendy came out of hiding. She'd know that scream anywhere. The teenager rushed to the banister to see Dipper Pines – _her boy_ – standing on one of the dining tables. Somehow, he had been placed into a rather-snazzy suit and tie combo – a rare instance for as long as Wendy had known the twelve-year-old. He raised his hands towards the sky, his fingers clutching empty air. His mouth had been frozen agape. His brown eyes pleaded for mercy.

Goosebumps traveled down Wendy's body. _She had seen this before_. It was a recurring image in the deepest depths of her nightmares.

His flesh became a dark reddish brown. Any sign of life had been stricken away from his tiny form. Tiny branches poked out from the top of his head.

_"They're all people!"_ Wendy realized, looking back along the sea of living wood. "_That thing turned all_ _these people to wood!"_

The ghost's laughter rang through Wendy's mind. The sight of the entrapped Dipper made her blood boil. All sense of fear faded as pure adrenaline took over. She patted her body in search of her trusty axe, forgetting that she had left it outside with her bike.

_"Guess I have to do this the old fashion way…"_

Despite everything that had happened, her mission remained the same: _her boy still needed her._

Wendy ran towards the first set of stairs, tripping over her own two feet. She cursed, kicked off the plaguing heels, and flew down the flight barefoot. Racing past the fireplace in the middle of the stairs, Wendy slid down the handrail leading to the first floor of the main hall. She went to hop off the bottom step leading to the shiny waxed floor when Wendy was brought to a sudden stop.

"What the - ? My feet are stuck!"

Wendy looked down at the floor and gasped. Both legs had become tree trunks fused into the ground. Her toes had been transformed into eight individual roots digging into the linoleum. She couldn't move from the spot.

"No! Not now." She stared at the Dipper statue in despair. "Not now!" Wendy reached towards the banister, hoping to use it to pry herself free. Her fingers missed the ledge by mere inches. A second later, Wendy lost all feeling in her reaching hand. She pulled her arm back to discover it had been frozen solid. Shortly after, her left arm succumbed to the ghost's curse as well.

"Ugh! Ugh!" Wendy strained her body, trying her best to break free from her wooden confinements with no prevail. The numbing sensation reached her shoulders, leaving only her head able to move freely. She glanced back at Dipper, knowing that in moments, she'd share his fate. _She had failed him._

The curse traveled into her lungs. It became harder and harder to breathe. With her last gasp of air, Wendy screamed, but her cries came out as an almost inaudible sound:

_"…Dipper…"_

The feeling spread all over Wendy's face. She could no longer hear. The last thing that she could see was that the ghost was now arguing with the Northwest girl. Her hand was on some kind of lever…

And then, darkness came, mixed in with a shade of green…

*GASP!*

Wendy gasped for breath as the world exploded in a white light. She spun around, finding that her body was free of the ghost's spell. The teen wiggled all eight fingers and toes to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

She scanned the room to see that everyone that had been spellbound had been returned to normal. Friends and enemies shared deep drinks from the Apple Cider fountain. Poor and rich happily danced and mingled alongside one another. The line for the buffet was even longer than of the line outside!

Wendy rubbed her eyes. _"Was I dreaming? That really did happen, right?"_ Judging by the happy appearance of every other party goer, she couldn't be sure anymore.

"HAHAHAHA!"

Wendy's ears perked at the sound of the familiar laughter. She had almost forgotten! The clerk followed the sound across the room as her exhausted smile was wiped away.

"…oh…"

A restored Dipper stood next to Pacifica as they mischievously took random items from the nearest dining table and smashed them onto the fancy white rug beneath. The young Northwest took relish in the fact that her mud-encrusted footwear were adding to the mess. The two pre-teens exploded into another burst of hearty mirth.

It was such an odd thing for Wendy to witness. Usually, Dipper was a super-serious, kinda dorky kid that barely ever laughed or joked around so freely….

_"…except when he's with me…"_

Wendy rubbed her shoulder anxiously as an unknown sorrow overtook her. She knew it was a good thing to see Dipper relaxed and actually…_happy_ like this.

_"Then why does it feel so weird?"_

She took a step forward and froze. Would it be wrong to interrupt this? Here she was, expecting to be the highlight of Dipper's day, and now, she stood alone on the dance floor, reminding her of her long-forgotten past. She had hoped to never have moments like those again.

In spite of all of these new, conflicting feelings, Wendy came to one ultimate conclusion:

_"I guess…I'm not needed here after all…"_

Without saying a word, or alerting the world of her presence, Wendy turned away from the party scene. As soon as she set foot on the staircase….

"WEN-DY!"

Wendy turned to her right. Tambry and Robbie sat at the nearest dining table. Each had a cell phone in one hand, and the other was held together.

"'Sup, Wendy?"

"H-Hey, you guys." She wiped a loose bang away from her face. "What are you two doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Robbie said.

"Yeah, Wendy." Tambry added. "I thought you wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this?"

Wendy pulled at the edges of her green dress. "I dunno. I thought I'd see what the hubbub was all about. " She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "To be honest, I was actually on my way out – "

"HA!" Robbie laughed out loud and pointed into the distance. "That a look at that! The little creep's finally found a playmate!"

Wendy followed Robbie's finger to see Dipper still talking about with Pacifica, making her laugh hysterically.

"Yeah," Wendy chuckled weakly. "Look at that…"

"Be nice!" Tambry elbowed her boyfriend. "I think it's cute! And hey, it's a load off your shoulders. Right, Wendy?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that maybe that kid won't follow you around like a puppy-dog anymore." Robbie insisted. "You can't tell me it didn't get on your nerves."

Wendy shrugged, "He – it really didn't bother me as much as you think."

"Oh, I get it!" Tambry pulled Robbie closer as a devious grin formed on her face. "I think someone's getting jealous because she's not the center of attention…"

"Wait, what?!" Wendy's cheeks grew beet red. "You think I'm jealous of _that_ – I mean, her? You're bonkers! I think it's…really…_nice_…"

"Okay, Wendy. If you say so."

"Whatever you say, Wen."

"It's like that old saying. Oh, what was it again?"

Trying to hide her agitation, Wendy went to turn around. "It's been a long night, guys. I'm beat, and I'm going to head home."

"Are you sure you don't wanna stay?" Tambry asked. "You can chill with us."

"Yeah," Robbie agreed. "We don't mind a third wheel."

"Sure I'm sure, guys!" Wendy gave a fake smile and a wave. "I'll catch you guys later."

Wendy made her way up to the final stair as Robbie called out, "I got it! It's like that saying, "_Be careful what you wish for_," eh, Wendy?"

"Classic…" Tambry congratulated her beau.

Wendy pointed her fingers as dual pistols. "Yep! You got me!" As soon as she was out of their sight, her facade swiftly vanished.

_"I'm not jealous! It just…feels off. Is it so bad?"_

She had been down this road before. Was there a chance she'd lose another friend, especially so soon? Wendy picked up her high heels and carried them in one hand. She looked over her shoulder one last time, taking in all of the happy people having fun together; at her boy mingling with a girl that was once his mortal enemy.

Defeated, Wendy sighed and made her way towards the bathroom whence she came. Robbie's words repeated over and over in her mind.

_"Be careful what you wish for, eh, Wendy?"_

"Yeah…" Wendy sat on top of the windowsill leading towards her makeshift exit. She threw her shoes down on to the ground as she wrapped the vine around her body and descended towards the ground. _"Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it…"_


	2. It's Quite Simple, Really

_"This isn't going to hurt, is it?"_

Wendy Corduroy squirmed in the rigid seat. The oddly-shaped helmet strapped to her head matted her poofy auburn hair against her brow, leaving it covered with beads of sweat. Her eyes raced around the secret laboratory beneath the Mystery Shack as dials clicked and spun, machinery hummed in different decibels, and vials of unknown liquids slowly boiled and bubbled beneath their heated test tubes.

Huge libraries of hardcover research books decorated the walls next to the exit. A spiraling stairwell led to another floor of boring-looking tomes. A number of end-tables and shelves displayed a lifetime's worth of knick-knacks and souvenirs from untold adventures. An old, chipped worktable sat at the middle of the room, filled to the brim with clutter and unfiled paperwork.

"Absolutely not!" Stanford Pines double-checked the computer monitor across from her. He tapped away at the keyboard, inputting new commands at lightning speed. "In fact, it might just do the opposite."

Wendy winced confusingly, "T-Tickle?" Her hands tightly gripped the sides of her chair.

Ford shook his head, "No, not that either." His harden eyes moved upwards. "But don't worry – we won't be going anywhere near your feet, I assure you."

Wendy's freckled face turned white. "Huh?! How did you know I was thinking – "

The scientist chuckled. "To be honest, _you_ told me." He pointed to the giant video screen mounted behind Wendy. "Part of the procedure is that your thoughts will be shown on this display. The smaller televisions above it can provide collaborating videos and audio as well."

Wendy turned around to see a series of green, flowing texts flying across the largest screen:

"HOW DID HE KNOW THAT? ISN'T THIS LIKE AN INVASION OF PRIVACY? HEY, AT LEAST I DON'T HAVE TO WORK NOW!"

The sound of laughter made Wendy switch screens. One of the smaller ones played a somewhat faint image of Dipper and her wrestling around on her bed. Wendy had her arm wrapped around his head as she gave him the ultimate noogie. On the other end, Dipper had an orange-and-yellow socked foot in a death grip as he mercilessly tortured its sensitive underside.

"Say it! Say that you give up!"

"NEHEHEHEH! Never! You – You first!"

Wendy smiled briefly at the memory before turning back around towards Ford. He silently watched the scene, itching his beard stubble with curiosity. "Hmm…"

She forced an uneasy laugh out of embarrassment. Ford's silence only added to Wendy's nervousness. Her fingertips tapped the armrests of the chair as the helmet seemed tightened around her head.

_"This is so freaky! Why I'd even agree to this in the first place?" _

* * *

It had only been less than a half-hour ago that the teen had been sitting at her post at the Mystery Shack's Gift Shop. Wendy sat back on her stool, her shoulder-blades resting against the cracked wall as her mud-covered boots rested on the countertop. Her nose buried in the latest gossip magazine. The world was peaceful and quiet until…

"A-hem!"

"Whoa!" Wendy was jolted out of her zen. Her balance lost, her arms flailed in mid-air until she slipped from her seat and landed hard to the floor.

"OW!" She rubbed her sore backside as a hand reached out to help.

"Thanks, Dip." Wendy accepted the help back to her feet. "You really scared the living – "

Her words faded as she was pulled upwards to meet Ford's stern, broaden face. He adjusted his cracked glasses with his six-fingered hand as he cleared his throat once more.

"Sorry about that." Ford apologized. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind assisting me with an experiment."

"Oh, okay…" Wendy placed her fallen trapped cap back on her head. This had been the first time the long-lost Great-Uncle of the Pines twins had addressed her. "What's up?"

"Not here…" To Wendy's surprise, Ford walked towards the vending machine across from her desk and dialed a combination of random numbers. A second later, the ground shook beneath her feet. The machine itself slid away from the wall, revealing a hidden staircase leading deep into the earth.

"WHOA!" Wendy's green eyes grew wide. She had heard Dipper mention something about secrets literally built into the Mystery Shack itself, but she never expected anything like this.

Ford walked down the steps as a series of lights hanging overhead instantly sprang to life. "Now, if you'll follow me, we'll be at my lab – " He paused, noticing there wasn't a second set of footsteps behind him. The elder spun around to see Wendy standing at the entryway with an unnerved expression.

"On second thought," Wendy pointed towards the family entrance to the parlor. "Stan – I mean, _the other Stan_, will probably need me to stay here at the counter…"

"Oh, please!" Ford waved away in disgust. "Stanley's been asleep in his recliner for hours! He didn't care enough to put on pants today, yet alone properly manage a business!"

Wendy giggled and covered her mouth.

"I know things look odd and even scary. " Ford held a hand against his heart. "But it is dire that you come with me. Your life, as well as that of your family and friends, may depend on it."

Wendy's guard dropped as the old man's façade fell. His frown twisted into an all-too-familiar tiny beam. "Please…?"

_"So, that's where Dipper gets his smile from…"_

Before she knew it, Wendy followed along the coat tails of the sage explorer down the staircase and onto an old-fashioned service elevator. Ford threw a nearby switch, closing a gate shut behind Wendy, making her flinch slightly. There was no going back now.

The elevator slowly descended down the shaft, its wheels noisily squeaking the entire way. The landing violently shook beneath their boots. An awkward silence filled the narrow passage.

"So…" Wendy broke the silence as Ford stared into the distance, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. "I never would have guessed that something like this was hidden beneath the Shack."

Ford nodded, "It's actually ironic – your father was the one who designed and built this very cottage."

"Get out!"

"I will – " He paused and let out a nervous laugh, "I see. You were using an euphemism. My mistake. But it's true. Dan Corduroy helped create what you now know as the Mystery Shack over 30 years ago."

"Wow…" Wendy absorbed her surroundings outside of the caged elevator. She looked on with a sense of pride, knowing that her family had lent a hand in creating such an extraordinary marvel. The redhead turned towards Ford. "Dad doesn't about any of this junk, does he?"

He broke eye-contact. "Not…exactly. Let me put it like this: your old man thought I was putting in one hell of a den."

"HA! Sounds about right!"

The elevator eased to a gentle stop. They were now in front of a sturdy redwood door. Golden marking wrapped around at the top and the bottom in half-circles as a jewel-encrusted keyhole lied in the center.

Ford reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a long, aged key. He inserted it into the opening and rotated it tightly. The door sprang open with a slow creak. He opened an arm towards the new room shrouded in complete darkness.

"After you…"

* * *

Wendy's body grew sore in thanks to the awkward chair given to her. Proper posture wasn't exactly her thing. She couldn't decide if it was the seat or the uncomfortable atmosphere that added to her anxiety.

_"I know this guy is Dip's uncle and all, but why do I feel like it's one of my old B-movies, where he's going to hit a button, and shackles are going to pop outta this thing and grab my wrists and ankles?"_

"I wouldn't be too worried." Ford reassured the worried girl with a sly grin. "I'm more of an "angry scientist" than I am a "mad" one, so I'm not exactly one to have deathtraps lying about the lab."

"Huh?" Once more, Wendy glanced over her shoulder, finding her fears displayed for the world to see. She groaned aloud and pinched her nose in embarrassment. "Oh, man…"

"Secondly," Ford walked to his desk and took hold of the roller chair placed there. "Unlike my brother, I do recognize the fact that child endangerment and imprisonment is a serious crime in the state of Oregon."

Wendy bit her lip to stop chortling. Seeing her growing calm, Ford rolled the chair in front of her and took a seat. "And lastly, if anything, I asked you here for your own protection, Gwendolyn."

"It's "Wendy…" if you don't mind, Mr. Pines."

Ford glanced up at the large television for a split second.

"I HATE THAT NAME SO MUCH! WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS, MY MOTHER? I WISH I HAD A COOL NICKNAME LIKE DIPPER DOES."

"My mistake, "Wendy." Ford rubbed his chin with curiosity. "And I'd prefer "Ford" as well."

"It's a deal, Ford." Her smile faded as she rubbed her hands together. "Um, going back to what you said earlier. This machine is supposed to "protect me?" She gently tugged on the black cord stemming from the helmet that led back to the series of screens. "And from what exactly?"

"Let me explain." The man sat back on his padded chair, much to Wendy's chagrin. "The machine that you are attached to is my own creation: Project Mentem mk-2."

"That's a mouthful!"

"You're telling me. As that machine scans your mind, it will also shield it from being controlled by outside forces."

"Outside forces?"

Ford leaned forward, "Have you ever heard the name "Bill Cipher?""

Wendy hesitated. "Uh, I…think so…"

Once more, Wendy's thoughts betrayed her as they ran across the computer screen for all to see.

"THAT'S THAT TRIANGLE GUY, RIGHT? I THINK IT'S THAT TRIANGLE GUY. HE'S THE ONE THAT MADE DIPPER ACT ALL FREAKY A FEW WEEKS AGO. I KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP WHEN HE THREW HIS ARM AROUND ME AND CALLED ME "TOOTS." AND HE WOULDN'T STOP STARING AT MY CHEST. EW!"

Ford placed his hands on the armrests of Wendy's chair, missing her fingertips by inches. His tone grew utterly grim. "Bill Cipher is an interdimensional being, made of pure negative energy. He lives for complete and utter chaos! And he will not stop until he unleashes such horrors onto this very world!"

Wendy gulped, as another thought was splashed across the screen:

"I SAW THAT DRAWING IN DIPPER'S BOOK. THAT CREEP DIDN'T LOOK SO TOUGH TO ME. HE LOOKS LIKE SOME DEMENTED FLYING CORN CHIP. I BET I COULD TAKE HIM ANYTIME!"

Enraged, Ford rose to his feet, forcing his chair back. "THIS ISN'T SOME KINDA JOKE, KID!" He marched back and forth across his lab as Wendy was helpless to do anything but watch. "Do you even know what you're dealing with?" He continued on lecturing. "This thing destroyed his own universe without an ounce of regret! He hunted me endlessly across countless dimensions and realities for the last 30 years! He's responsible for the demise of several civilizations, and _you_ think you stand a chance against him?! _He'd destroy you in a blink of his eye!"_

"I'm – I'm sorry, okay?" Wendy shut her eyes and turned her head. "I-I didn't mean – "

Ford lowered his guard as his sights came across the master computer. His heart sunk into his knees as he quietly read the thoughts displayed:

"I HATE IT WHEN BOYS FIGHT. I HATE IT WHEN BOYS YELL AT ME. IT'S LIKE HOW STAN AND MY DAD ALWAYS YELL AT ME. I REALLY WISH HE'D STOP YELLING AT ME…"

He looked ahead to the teenaged girl shivering in her seat. Ford opened his six-fingered hands, wondering if he was any better than the monster he was trying to defeat.

"Wendy…" The scientist reclaimed his seat, but made sure to keep his distance. "I…I apologize for my outburst. But you have to understand, _please_; any matter that involves Bill in even the slightest capacity has to be taken seriously." He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair. "In the last few decades, I have born witness to the outrageous atrocities that he has committed across time and space. _It is something that no one deserves to see. It is something no one deserves to fall victim to._ For that, I implore you again: will you continue to help me keep not just this world safe from Bill's influence, but my family as well?"

"It's – It's okay, man." Wendy agreed with a shake of her head. "I'm still game if you are. So, what's the plan? How can I help?"

As both persons calmed, Ford sunk back into his seat comfortably. "You already have." He highlighted another computer monitor. "As the Mentem mk-2 scans your thoughts, it has been applying a shield to your brainwaves. See for yourself."

Wendy spun to her right, finding a black screen with bright, dark-green text displaying a progress bar:

SCANNING THOUGHTS – 35%

"Within a few minutes," Ford clarified. "The process will have scanned the entirety of your mind, protecting it from any possible threat from Bill."

"Oh…okay, then…"

The two sat and peeked around the room without saying another word. The only sound to be heard was the occasional blip coming from the progress bar.

"Hey, Ford? Can I ask you a stupid question?"

"There are no stupid questions, but yes, proceed anyways."

"Alright." Wendy itched the back of her slender neck. "_Why me?_ Why do you think this Bill guy would try to possess my mind like he did to Dipper?"

Strangely enough, Ford's face lit up with interest. "It's quite simple, really. I believe you would be the perfect selection for Bill simply because of _who you are._"

"Who I am?" A dozen new thoughts raced through Wendy's mind.

"WHAT DOES HE MEAN BY THAT? IS IT BECAUSE I GREW UP HERE IN GRAVITY FALLS? OR BECAUSE I WORK AT THE MYSTERY SHACK?"

"My mistake. I shouldn't have been so coy." Ford stood back up and began to pace with his arms tucked behind his back. Another "Pines family" trait that easily reminded Wendy of "her boy." The adventurer paused for a moment, "It…wouldn't be too forward to say that you and my great-nephew have grown close this summer, would it?"

Wendy found herself stunned for a split second.

"CLOSE? OF COURSE WE ARE. HE'S MY BOY. THIS SUMMER WOULD HAVE TOTALLY BITE WITHOUT THAT LITTLE GUY. AFTER EVERYTHING THAT WE'VE BEEN THROUGH, HOW COULD WE NOT?"

"Eh. You could say that…"

"I see…" Ford nodded along with both forms of testimony. "But the question is _how_ close are you two?"

The lower-right screen displaying Wendy's heart-rate instantly spiked.

"Only a fool wouldn't be able to see that you share a sort of…" Ford waved his hand around in a circle as he attempted to find the correct term. "…a special bond. In fact, when Dipper sat in that very spot, you were a constant topic in his thoughts.

"Time out!" Wendy tried to switch the conversation around. "Dipper had this mind-mumbo-jumbo done to him, too?"

"Not exactly." Ford confessed. "There was an…_incident_ when we attempted to use the machine on him. It was only recently during some spare time that I was able to repair Project Mentem. Hence, the mk-2 at the end.

"SO I'M THE GUINEA PIG TO SEE IF THIS HUNK OF JUNK WORKS? GREAT, JUST GREAT. MAYBE IF MY BROTHERS DIDN'T MESS AROUND WITH THAT UNICORN HAIR DIPPER GAVE ME, I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SIT THROUGH THIS. I REALLY HOPE THIS DOESN'T BACKFIRE AND LEAVE ME WITH MY MIND WIPED LIKE WHAT THOSE BLIND-EYE JERKS TRIED TO DO TO US."

Wendy gasped. She forced a cheesy grin and pointed at the big screen behind her. "Say, do we really need to have that thing on the entire time?" The lumberjane gently tugged at the wiring binding her to the circuity. "There isn't a sleep mode or something we can switch on?"

Ford waved away her concerns. "It is more than all right, Wendy. I already know about the adventures you and Dipper have gone on these last few months."

"You…do?" A sense of unease formed in the pit of Wendy's stomach as her fears turned to anger.

"THAT LITTLE DORK! HE RATTED US OUT! ZIPPED LIPS, MY BUTT! JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON HIM! WHAT ELSE DID HE SAY? WAIT. THE MACHINE. WHAT IF THIS THING MADE HIM SQUEAL?"

Ford could see a new memory forming on the secondary monitor. Wendy and Dipper were standing with Mabel on the top of the Mystery Shack's roof as the sun shined high in the clear blue sky. Meeting eye-to-eye, they each made a zipping motion over their lips simultaneously.

"Zipped lips, eh?" Ford noted. "But nevertheless, I can assure you, Dipper didn't betray your trust in any fashion."

"He didn't?"

"Of course not." The researcher went back to his desk and took an item with him before sitting down before Wendy. "In fact, I learned about your journeys the same way he did about mine here in Gravity Falls: though documentation.

Wendy looked to see the all-too-familiar hardcover book marked with a golden six-fingered insignia lying in Ford's lap.

"Hey! That's Dipper's journal!"

"You mean _my journal_." Ford proudly patted the front cover. "It makes this old man proud to see Dipper continuing in my researching the wonderful oddities inhabiting this town." He opened the Journal 3 and scanned somewhere towards the middle portion. "You certainly had your hands full in the last few weeks, if I can say so. It's all right here: ghosts in the convenience store, clones amongst party-goers here at the Shack, time-traveling shenanigans …"

"Uh…" Wendy held up a finger to object. "Kinda lost on those last two, Ford."

"In that case," Ford closed the journal. "What about the fact that when I went to check on my abandoned bunker in the woods, every trap I had set had been disabled and I found the captive alien shapeshifter frozen in an effigy that looked exactly like Dipper?"

"Uh…"

"Plus," he reached into his oversized slicker and pulled out a dainty-sized lumberjack's belt and a sheath for a hatchet. "I found these inside the bunker. I believe they're yours?"

An uncomfortable laugh sailed pass Wendy's throat. "You're pretty mad about that, aren't you?"

"Maybe at first, but after things came together, I was more amazed. Especially by what was captured on film."

"We were taped?!"

"Wendy," Ford said. "One does not hide thousands of dollars of equipment as well as one-of-a-kind alien technologies deep in the Oregonian woods without having some type of surveillance equipment at the ready."

She shrugged. "True that."

"And don't get me wrong; all of you kids worked wonderfully as a group to recapture the shapeshifter, but it was the brief period in which you two were separated from Mabel and Soos that stood out. I could easily see marvelous examples of teamwork being displayed. I think it can go without saying how well _you complement each other_."

"Thanks, I guess…" Wendy went to scratch her head, finding it blocked by the massive helmet. "Sorry if I seem rude, but what's with all these questions about Dipper and me?"

"To be frank," he explained. "I'm simply trying to fill in the blanks to a lot of uncertainties that I have."

"Such as?"

"Perhaps, it would be best if I were more forward." Ford lowered his crossed leg and hunched forward. "So, I'll come out and ask: _what are your intentions towards my great-nephew? _

Wendy's brow rose, pinching the tip of her head enclosed by the helmet. Her heart-rate monitor went into full-blown overtime.

"OH MAN! OH MAN! OH MAN! THIS IS LIKE HOW MY DAD GRILLS ANY BOY I BRING TO THE HOUSE. THIS IS KARMA PAYING ME BACK, RIGHT?! WHAT SHOULD I SAY? HOW – "

Unfortunately, the middle monitor provided the answer for her, as Wendy could hear her own voice playing through the speakers:

_"But, I'm too old for you. I mean, you know that, right?"_

Both watched the scene played out, as Wendy and Dipper sat on a log deep into the Gravity Falls Woods just outside of Ford's hidden bunker, as she tried her best to calm his anxiety and over wrecked nerves.

Wendy lowered her head to see Ford still studying the screen with great interest. His face reminded her of Dipper's as she had left him wondering on that log as she rode away on her bike. Wendy would give anything to be free of the embarrassing and awkward situation.

"Ford…" The teenager struggled with her words. "It's not – I can explain…"

Her random thoughts spread across the main television at neck-break speeds.

"I WISH THINGS WEREN'T COMPLICATED. IT'S NOT LIKE DIP'S A BAD GUY. I HOPE HE UNDERSTANDS. I HOPE I DIDN'T HURT HIM. HE SEEMED FINE AT MOVIE NIGHT. WHAT ELSE COULD I DO? THERE'S NO WAY IT WOULD HAVE WORKED. MAYBE WHEN HE GETS OLDER…"

At long last, Ford finally spoke, "Well, that explains a lot. It's not as serious as I thought."

"Ford, you don't understand – "

He looked straight at her and removed his glasses, wiping them off with his sleeve. "Let me tell you something," Ford said without an ounce of emotion in his voice. "The more the things change – the more they stay the same. In Dipper's case, it's "you're too young." For me, an entire lifetime ago, it was "Sorry, Ford. But you have six fingers on each hand. What would people think?" He held up one of his unique hands for Wendy to see. "So, believe me, Wendy, when I say _I understand perfectly_."

Wendy remained completely silent as a single thought forced on the screen behind her:

"DOES DIPPER THINK THE SAME WAY, TOO?"

The strict professor put his damaged spectacles back on. "But in all honesty, I am actually relieved by this revelation."

Wendy shook her head in astonishment, "Wait?! You are?!"

"Of course." Ford stood up, holding the Journal 3 in his right hand, and placed it back into a slot in his work desk. "After all, _you are only a child yourself_. I'd be shocked if things had played out any differently."

The demeaning comment struck Wendy unexpectedly. It had been a long time since anyone had referred to her in such a way.

"Oh…kay, then. But I still don't understand. What does all this Dipper-talk have to do with me and that triangle guy?"

"That's precisely the point." Ford walked back. "It's all related. Other than myself, there isn't anyone else that Bill Cipher had more interactions than with Dipper. Like me, Bill has invaded Dipper's dreams on occasion, and went as far as to trick him into giving him control of his body."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that maybe with the exception of Mabel, _there is no one closer to that boy than you, Wendy._ Over the last few weeks, Dipper has become more involved in my experiments and my research. It's to the point he's serving as a pseudo-_apprentice_ of sorts. He now has knowledge that would allow Bill to conquer this world with ease."

"Jeez…"

"…is quite the understatement. For this, I believe that if Bill couldn't possess Dipper, he wouldn't hesitate to use those closest to him as a bargaining chip. For some reason, he doesn't bother Mabel. Maybe her dreams are so chaotic, they frightened even him. That leads me to believe that…"

"…he'd come for me instead." Wendy finished. "So, when you said earlier that this mind-thingie is for my protection, it's really more for Dipper's. You think I'm some kind of…"

"…_liability_. It might seem harsh, but after everything I've seen in the footage from the bunker, I couldn't be more certain. You both would stand in the face of danger for the other's welfare. I truly think that if your life was in jeopardy, Dipper would be willing to sacrifice _the entire universe_ to save you. And with all due respect, that scenario _cannot_ be allowed to happen."

Wendy didn't know what to say_. How could she feel so important and yet, so very small at the same time? _As she thought about it a bit more, the redhead came to a new realization.

"Dipper – he doesn't know I'm here, does he?"

Ford didn't answer her question. His eyes rose over her head. "And we're…just about…"

*DING!*

A bell sounded through the laboratory. The helmet finally released its death grip on her temples, as a drained Wendy nearly slid off her seat.

"Finished!" Ford rose to his feet and went to help Wendy up onto hers. He proudly patted her back, nearly knocking her off-balance. "How are you feeling?"

Wendy tried to find her center as she replaced her trapper hat on top her crown of copper hair. She grabbed her forehead. "My brain is throbbing."

"All perfectly normal," he declared. "Now, you want to be wary of any other side effects."

"Other side effects?"

"Yes. This is my new prototype, after all. There wasn't time to work out all of the kinks." Ford began to count off on his fingers. "So, if you experience leaky eyes, bloody nose, oozing out of certain orifices, and/or itchy palms or soles, don't hesitate to let me know immediately."

"T-Thanks. Appreciate it…" Wendy was thankful her mind wasn't being monitored any longer.

_"Only the best for the liability. Isn't that right, old man?"_

As Wendy staggered towards the exit, Ford returned his chair to his desk and took a seat. He started to scribble all sorts of follow-ups into his notebooks. "I'm going to record my latest findings, so I'm afraid I'll be a while." He pointed towards the door, "If you want to go on ahead, simply throw the switch to bring the elevator back to the surface. You'll find a button at the end of the path that'll re-open the vending machine leading back to your work station."

"You got it, Ford. I guess…I'll see you around."

Just as Wendy started to turn the door knob, she heard Ford call out, "Wendy, wait?"

She paused and looked back to see Ford with his chair spun towards her.

"For what it's worth," he anxiously adjusted his collar. "I wanted to thank you for everything that you do for Dipper. I, above all people, can understand how lonely and awkward things can be at his age. I'm glad that he has someone like you to help him along."

Wendy let out a sigh of relief. "It's no biggie, really. Like I said before, he's fun to hang with, and – "

Ford continued on, as if he didn't hear Wendy at all, "With that said, I figure that it's only a matter of time before things return to normal, and your life will go back to how it used to be."

She raised an eyebrow, "I'm not following you here…"

The senior went back to writing in his research, "It's more than obvious that Dipper is extremely interested in following in my footsteps, and to be honest, I'd be more than honored to train him to do as such. However, if there's one thing I've learned through the years, is that in this line of work, _relationships, rather they be emotional or physical, romantic or platonic, are fleeting_. In the end, they serve to be nothing more than a distraction from what's really important in life."

"What – What are you saying?"

"That in time, I'm more than positive that Dipper will grow out of this little fascination he has with you and focus on something that actually has substance in reality."

"You think Dipper will just forget about me?"

"Or you about him. Whichever comes first."

Wendy was left dumbstruck. Her stomach felt twisted by the man's lack of empathy on all fronts. However, she couldn't leave on this note. There was still one worry weighing down on her mind.

"Listen, Ford." The ginger rubbed her elbow fretfully. "Before I go, I wanted to ask you one last thing. Let's say that this little experiment _didn't_ work, and this Bill guy does find a way to take control over me. What would you do then?"

Ford stopped writing in his notepad, but didn't show Wendy a speck of his attention. Another eerie silence filled the lab. Mere seconds passed like hours before he finally gave an answer:

"We'll…worry about that if and then the time comes." He returned to his studies as if nothing had transpired. "Please make sure to close the door behind you."

It took nearly all of Wendy's remaining strength to respond. "Yeah, I'll do that…"

As Wendy slowly shut the door, she took one last look at the seemingly-disconnected old man focusing solely on the isolated world that he created for himself. As much as she hated to admit it, this also reminded her of "her boy" as well.

The exhausted clerk pulled the switch back, making the elevator creep back up the way it had come. She leaned against the gated wall with folded arms as her mind raced over the recent experience, and all that came from it. A glimpse of natural light offered little comfort from the gloominess of her current surroundings.

One thing was for certain: When Wendy reached the surface, _she was definitely going to have to_ stare_ at a wall for a while, and rethink everything…_


End file.
